Compromised
by Mr.Mayhem42
Summary: When Damien Scottsfield, an illegal arms dealer, gets attacked on his latest trade, he's rather unwilling to work with his captors, even with the promise of release for cooperation. How will he survive, and what about his partner? Follow the story of a man whose life got Compromised!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! First, thank you for clicking on this story! I was a little uncertain about this. My first story (that's still a work in progress) was in a niche little group. It does seem like a huge jump from a niche little group to something as big as Overwatch. I thought I'd give it a go because I thought, "How hard can this be?" After checking the competition, it's gonna be pretty hard. This won't start out smooth, in fact I planned to take this chapter slow before we get into the awesome stuff, but I hope it gets better over time for all of us. With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy Compromised!**

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It was a seemingly ideal looking morning. A shining sun, clouds that beamed at the ground below, and a vast blue sky. All this did, however, was stir the seemingly limp body of Damien Scottsfield, a recent 21 year old living just outside the English city of Portsmouth. He wasn't really living in a 5-star penthouse, or even a 3-star hotel. Damien worked and lived with his friend Marlin at his arms dealership. With the light going through the blinds of his window, he finally decided it was time to get his up. Last night him and Marlin went out for a night on the town, enjoying the food and drinks. Thankfully, Marlin was the sober one and dragged him back home. He got out of bed, showered, and got himself dressed. Out the door and down the stairs, he met Marlin at the table, a cup of coffee at his side.

"Morning sleeping beauty, your corpse weighed a fuckin ton," he groaned as he sat down at the other end of the table, eating a protein bar.

"Well sorry about that, but it's _your_ shift today, so you're going to have to tough it out," Damien remarked as he chugged his coffee, letting out a sigh of relief. Bored, and taking another swig of his coffee, he asked, "We got any clients today?"

Marlin perked up after his inquiry, "Oh yeah, forgot to tell ya, Mr. R is going to be at Dock 14 for the monthly shipment, you think you handle that?"

"Course I can, it's your shift today, least I could do. What time?"

"11 pm, and don't attack any of the metal scraps, your last job didn't help our front to much."

"Alright I won't. Now if you excuse me, I'm heading out," Damien got up from his seat, grabbing a black toboggan and throwing it onto his head. He then went over to the counter and began rummaging through some papers, "Hey, where'd you put my weapons?"

"Check the pantry," He replied as Damien searched the pantry before finally grabbing what looked to be a shotgun and a taser. Before he left, Marlin grabbed his shoulder. "Whoa whoa whoa, where _are_ you going if you're bringing your materials?"

"Simple, subway station's on rush hour. Thought we could pull some extra cash this week," Damien shrugged as he continued walking. Marlin stopped him again.

"Dude, you know this is the same shit that got you locked up in the States right?"

"That was _one fucking time_ Marlin! All because of that bitch's dog and that I had a cramp that day."

"You robbed a 2,000$ dollar necklace from a famous actress while she was in an interview! Just, don't get your ass arrested again okay?"

"Fine, but I find it weird that you're more worried about me than the deal we've got going on the underground. Later!" He walked out the backdoor, leaving Marlin and the shop behind.

The station was no more than a minute away from the shop, which helped with quick getaways sometimes. When he walked down, he was still impressed by the technology of this day in age. Everything had a glow to it that it seemed like it was high-tech and important. As he strolled down the corridor, it was the same as any other rush hour, people saying their pardons and trying to get to their platform before their train left. Since Portsmouth was, well, a port city, it was a mishmash of different backgrounds, human or omnic. Damien stopped against the wall next to a newsstand. "Damn it," he thought to himself as he eyed everyone passing by, "Are all these people all poor or something? Where's the money man?" He continued to scan the area until he decided this wasn't working and made his way to the exit.

The smell of alcohol hit Damien as soon as he walked into the bar. After the fail that the rush hour heist was, he'd just want to sit down and have some drinks. He pulled up a stool and tapped his fingers against the counter, watching the television on the wall. It was on a news station, talking about a recent illegal weapons bust. The photos sent a chill down Damien's spine, nervous that him and Marlin could be next. Back in the U.S, he bailed Damien out of jail after the necklace incident and allowed him to move to England with him. When he got there Marlin told him that his dealership was apart of a huge illegal arms deal. Marlin used to be a gunsmith and found his niche in selling illegal weaponry to everyone from murders to terrorist groups. When Damien moved in, Marlin told him that a guy who he called Mr. R gave him a butt load of money for monthly shipments of weapons. It wasn't just them, there was a whole network of arm manufactures and dealers all across England in the trade. They usually dealt with overseas clients, but the occasional in country businessman did come up. However, the network had been slowly falling apart. The bust in the picture was from a friend of Damien's, the two were drinking buddies and he was his secondary source for arms. He'd have to break the news to Marlin when he got home.

"Hey Damien, glad to see you!" It was the barkeep, George. Damien was a regular and the two men always had fun conversations ranging from drink tastes to life stories. He had a light shade of brown hair and eyes blue as blueberries. His gentle looking appearance was a stark contrast to Damien's more sharp and unfriendly appearance with unkempt short black hair and sharp brown eyes. George poured him a glass of Vodka, his usual, and handed it to him, "Here, this'll lift your spirits," he must've saw him in thought.

"Thanks," he responded, downing the glass. He set it back down as George filled it back up. He downed the other glass and got up from the stool, getting a shocked look from George.

"Two drinks? Who are you and what have you done to Damien Scottsfield?"

"Sorry George, just got something important tonight and 'fraid I can't get drunk."

"Come back soon!" He waved as Damien walked out the doors.

Marlin and Damien sat at their dining table, eating some eggs Marlin got from the store. The two mostly ate in silence, occasionally asking about each other's day. Damien tried to keep himself awake, he usually went to bed around this time on an off day, but he had to make this month's delivery, if it wasn't for Mr. R and his payments, getting by would be hard. Bored out of his mind, Damien started conversation.

"Who's the driver this time?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair. Dock 14 was a 10 minute drive, and Mr. R was a oversea client, which meant they had to use freight ships. He rode along to make sure we got the weapons on board without any detection. Problem was, he got so many weapons they had to bring a large truck filled with them. Marlin had a group called "Drivers" who got the trucks there while either him or Marlin helped load everything.

"Jamie," Marlin responded, earning Damien's hate filled groan. He set his knife down and sighed, "I don't get why you hate her so much, most guys would kill to work with her."

"Marlin, what did you hit your head on? She's the complete opposite of me and never takes the job seriously!"

"Whine all you want, we both know she's the best at what she does, better than anyone else in the group. Now go take a shower and get ready before she gets here."

Damien grumbled as he washed up and changed clothes, now dawning a t-shirt, jeans, and some gloves. He made his way back downstairs, grabbing some extra bullets for his shotgun, a walkie talkie, and his cellphone. He reminded Marlin to be listening to the his comm, just in case something happened. He waited out back for the truck, looking at the stars.

"A clear night sky," he thought to himself as he heard the familiar sound of wheels on pavement, it was time for the worst part of the day.

He climbed into the truck only to be greeted a familiar chipper voice, "So, you're taking the job instead of M huh?"

"I'm not in the mood Jamie, let's get this over with," he sighed as he buckled his seat-belt and the two were off. At least the stars provided a nice view for the trip down to the dock. It was about halfway through the ride when Damien felt his cell phone buzz. He pulled it out and answered, "Hello?"

"Damien, it's me," that hauntingly deep voice belonged to Mr. R, but why was he calling? He almost never called them, even rarely Damien specifically, "Are you at the dock warehouse yet?"

Dock 14 was a mix of both a dock and a warehouse, which made their dealing easier and more secretive. "No sir," Damien responded, "why, what happened?"

"Nothing, not yet anyway. We have suspicions that we're being followed. Try to get there in the next three minutes."

"Will do," he hung up the phone, letting out a sigh of relief and shrinking into his seat.

"Who was that?" Jamie asked as the two neared in on Dock 14. The warehouse looked pretty ominous at night, well anything did at almost 12 in the morning.

"Mr. R, says he has reason to believe someone's on his trail, we're going to have to make this quicker than usual," they nodded at each other as they backed into the warehouse. Damien got out and found the usual freight ship was here as soon as they arrived. The men on the ship helped get the cargo onto the boat securely. As the two watched their workers, Damien turned around and tapped Mr. R on his shoulder.

"What?" He growled annoyed. Mr. R was a, 'unique' man, he wore a costume of sorts to hide his identity, but it looked like he was going to a Halloween party or something. Damien flinched before he pointed to an ever growing shadow in the distance. Mr. R handed him a pair of binoculars as he focused on the shadow.

"Shit, this doesn't look good," Damien hissed as he gave Mr. R the binoculars. He could hear the same anger as it grew closer.

"Airship, I knew we were being followed," he turned around and got all of his men. They rushed to the ship, the airship was out of our sight meaning two things. One: It turned back for some reason or two: It was on top of us.

It was two. The roof busted open, revealing the scrambling workers and everyone else to the night sky. Soldiers of some kind began falling in as Damien tried to get a hold of Marlin on the comm, "Marlin, do you read me, Marlin!"

"Loud and clear, what's the problem?"

"Soldiers, weird ragtag group though," Damien was running to the truck as Jamie started it and tried to drive out. As they backed out the truck came to a crashing halt.

"The hell was that?" Jamie asked as the two turned around. A wall was now in their path, somehow. It looked to be made out of seemingly fragile ice, but it wouldn't break, no matter how hard they rammed into it. Damien cursed under his breath as they got out of the truck. There was a battlefield in front of them, a surprisingly non-gruesome one. Mr. R was trying to get out of the dock as his men tried to hold of the soldiers, barely any of them were looking at Jamie or Damien. They dashed out of the door into the streets.

"Marlin, I need you to phone Murphy, we've been compromised at Dock 14."

"Tell me how you got compromised when you get back okay?" Marlin went off the comm as the two continued running. Murphy was a friend of Marlin who owned a rental car dealership nearby. As they kept moving, Damien felt something sharp dig into his leg, causing him to curse out loud.

"Are you alright?" Jamie asked as she stopped beside Damien. He pulled something from his leg and examined it.

"I've been hit with a sleep dart of sorts. Listen, when you get to Marlin's, tell him what happened and that we gotta bust," he handed Jamie his walkie talkie and cell phone as he held himself up with his arms.

"What about you?" She knelt down and tried to get him under her arm.

"I'll be fine. If we both get caught, Marlin's fucked, understand?" She nodded as he tried to stay awake. He had a resistance with sleep medication. It only went so far however, as his eyes began to get heavy, "now go!"

As Jamie ran, he laid there, looking up at the sky. Before long, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie had managed to get to Murphy's unscathed and there waiting for her was a getaway vehicle. It could get the job done, GPS and such. As she got in and shot the engine back to life, the walkie talkie Damien gave her began to emit a static sound. She grabbed it and turned the knob until a voice began coming through.

"Damien, do you copy? Damien, do you copy?" It was Marlin. For the past hour he had been trying to contact his comrade to no avail. He tried again into the comm, "Damien, do you copy? Damien, do you copy?"

"I hear you Marlin," she spoke into it as she began to move out of the lot and onto the road.

"Jamie? Thank god someone picked up, but what the hell happened to Damien?"

"Our assailants got a shot on him with a sleep shot. He gave me his cell and this,"

"And you just left him there?" Marlin was pretty pissed. His co-worker, no his _friend_ , was captured and she did nothing about it?

"Hey, he did it to protect your ass ya know!"

"Alright, we'll talk when you get here."

"Okay M, I'll be there in a bit," she put the radio device down and focused on driving for now. However, she couldn't shake Damien's face from her mind as she drove. He risked himself for his friend and her too. She couldn't think of a more noble way to go out, even for a criminal like him. She pulled up to the back of Marlin's house, getting out of the car and knocking on the back door. When Marlin answered, she gasped a bit. His strawberry blond hair was a baggy mess, and so were his eyes. "M, you look terrible!'

"Well, I've been up since 7 this morning. Anyway, come in, I'm done packing," he held open the door for her. On the ground were three pretty stuffed suitcases. He sat at the other end of the table, having himself a cup of coffee.

"Okay, so Damien told you that you've 'gotta bust'. Mind filling me in on what the means?" She pulled up a seat across from him, causing him to look downwards.

"Good friend of mine named John, he lives up north. He knows of this huge arms deal, said whenever I needed a place, he's always open," he took a sip of coffee before he continued, "what I need from you is that car, and to crash at your place for a night. That's all I need from you."

She sat there confused. "I don't see why you need to crash at my place, this is _your_ house. Why do you need to use mine?"

"Jamie, my friend just got taken off by some rogues, Terry got busted yesterday, and they're on to me now. Do you think it'd be a wise idea to spend the night here at the risk getting arrested when I wake up?" She shook her head no as he finished his cup and got up, "Get my suitcases in the car, I have to do something." She looked at him as he went over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vaseline and a matchbox. While she moved the suitcases out, she saw him lacing the perimeter of his house as much as he could before throwing what was left of the bottle into the kitchen. He lit a match and tossed it back as he ran for the car. He got in and shut the door as Jamie put the pedal to the metal and they sped off. Marlin watched as his home lit up in flames, knowing that nothing will be left in the morning. He slouched as the two made way for Jamie's house, but he was so tired he fell asleep on the way there. Marlin Hopeland, would lead a different life, tommorow morning

The room appeared to be made of carpet from how blurry Damien's vision was, he tried to remember what happened last night before it all came back to him. He was delivering Mr. R's monthly shipment before the local future circus came and shot him in the leg. He couldn't feel his arms, "Bindings, classy," he thought as he then checked his legs. Looking down he saw that the pant leg on the leg he was shot was cut off and had bandages wrapped around it. They had the decency to at least treat his wound, probably means they're more talky less life-or-deathy. He leaned against the wall in his cell, waiting for someone to come or something to happen. Slowly, he grew bored, his eyes growing heavy. Close to dozing off, he felt himself jolt up when he heard an all too familiar sounding voice.

"Whoops! Sorry 'bout that love, didn't mean to wake ya up," her voice sounded just like another chipper Brit he'd love to slap. She looked different from Jamie though. For one her hair was short and spiked up instead of long and let down and instead of an infatuation for red, it appeared to be orange, and some aviation merch. Two things were common though, they both had brown eyes and a childishly high voice that annoyed him to no end.

"You're fine, first person I've seen in awhile. Think you know who I am, so let's cut the chase. What do ya need from me?" He tried to make a first impression to get the message across that he was someone not to be dealt with lightly.

"Well, can ya stand?" He rolled his eyes at her as he tried to use the wall to stand up. After fumbling for a bit he made his way over to her, standing, but with shaky legs.

"Best I can do in the ropes, by the way, real classy too," he remarked as he leaned against the wall for support. He stared at her for a moment, tapping his foot. "Is that it? Mean if so, leave and I will go back to sleep."

"Someone's got an attitude on them," she grumbled as he looked up and saw her unlock the cell door, "follow me."

"Hell no!" was his first thought, but he didn't know where he was, so it'd be like running in a maze against another person, but the other person has a map. He hung his head low as he followed behind her. Walking was pretty awkward, without his hands he felt so unbalanced. They continued through the halls and up some stairs until they reached what seemed to be the top floor. She walked up to a door and had it open when they were in front of it. He walked into what he thought was a board meeting. Everything seemed like that's what it was, except for the gorilla.

"I see our guest is up and on his feet," the gorilla spoke first of everyone in the room, "Lena, you can go ahead and undo the ropes." The girl who accompanied Damien here undid the ropes on his back. He moved his arms a bit before he noticed an empty seat in front of him, the gorilla nodded and he pulled out the chair and took a seat. "Now, since everyone's here, we can get started."

"Mr. Scottsfield, judging from the research we've done, you probably won't tell us any information no matter what we try right?" The man on the left with a blue jacket spoke first, he looked old, probably older than Jim from the bar. Damien nodded, seeing him unfazed by his response shocked Damien at least. "Since that's the case, we've decided to offer you a position, no, _give_ you a position in Overwatch. Knowing how you are, we decided this would be the best course to take." Damien opened his mouth to object, but shut it, he had no words coming to his head, he wanted to argue, but he couldn't do it with silence. "Lena will show you to your room, we're glad to have you on the team Damien."

He felt words come back to him as he finally found words to speak, "Listen here gramps," that one visibly hurt him, "I'm not doing this, no way in hell. I'd rather have my fucking brains blown out than work with you! So there you have my answer," he knelt down on the ground and put his hands over his head, "Let's get this over with."

He heard the old man sigh and say something along the lines of "I knew this would happen," before he got up and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh great, you're wussing out. I'll do it myself then," Damien groaned as he reached into his pocket before he searched the other, obviously, they took his weapons off him. He sighed before he stood back up. "Looks like I don't have a choice, fine I'll join your little circus group. But know that I'm not all too happy about this arrangement alright?" The man before him smiled as the two shook hands.

The Jamie bootleg, who from the gorrilla said her name was Lena, led him to his room before leaving him alone for a bit. The room was sparse, a bed, a desk and a drawer were the only things there. The wall was a navy blue and the floor was a softer, sky blue. Damien hopped onto the bed, planning to end the day, but his stomach had other plans. He got up and walked out of his room, trying to find a map of the place, thankfully there were some people who he thought had the same idea and all he had to do was slip in and follow them.

Thank his luck, they were heading to a mess hall of sorts. Everyone grabbed a tray of food and sat at a table, like a lunchroom in a school. When Damien grabbed his tray he was faced with the dilemma that any transfer school student faced, he didn't know where to sit. He found an empty table and took his seat and looked at the food provided. Steak and potatoes, at least he had food similar to home. He was about to begin eating when he heard a sharp southern accent break the silence.

"Excuse me, mind if I sit here?" The man before him looked like a cowboy from those western movies he saw when he was a kid.

"Not at all man, help yourself," the man tipped his hat as he sat down. The two began eating in silence, before long they both finished. Damien held out his hand to make a last minute conversation. "I'm Damien, Damien Scottsfield."

"Nice to meet ya, name's McCree but most just call me Jesse." They shook hands as they put both their trays up and headed back towards their rooms for the night. Damien waved him off as they went to their respective rooms. As Damien approached the door of his room, he found a note with a map with a path leading to a building seemingly close by. Figuring he had some time before he slept he followed the path and knocked on the building where it ended on the slip of paper. He was greeted by, to him, a female version of George, if he was a blonde.

"Ah Mr. Scottsfield!" He winced just at that, he _hated_ when people used just his last name, "I expected you to be here tomorrow!"

"Well I got your note and thought I had some time to kill. What do you need?" He asked as she lead him inside and closed the door behind him. The building looked like a medical ward, hospital beds and all. She lead him to the back and had him sit down on a stool.

"I called you down here to check on you and change your bandages," she raised up his leg and undid the bandages, there was some blood on them, but not a whole lot. She redid the bandages before he stood up to leave. "Wait!" He stopped as he turned around to face her.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I have to undo one more set of bandages." She moved closer before she knelt down and began raising his shirt up. His cheeks quickly flustered as he stopped her.

"Lady, let's not do that. That sounds nice."

"Well then you do it, I can't check the bandages if you're shirt's on."

Damien preemptively swallowed as he lifted up his shirt. The woman grabbed the bandages and unwrapped them, blood staining most of them. You know, you had so many knife wounds, none stitched up, I'm surprised you're still alive," she remarked as she redid the bandages and let Damien put his shirt down. "All done." She looked as if she was about to say something, but Damien was gone before she said anything.

For the second time that day, he went into his room and hopped into his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering how Marlin was doing. He stared for only a few minutes before he let darkness take him.


End file.
